


Title

by Applefall



Series: Ficlets [7]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, thats really it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefall/pseuds/Applefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>started this on a tinychat the other night and said what the hell, I'll finish it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Title

**Author's Note:**

> basically an excuse for smut

Patrick places hands on Pete's shoulders and shoves him backwards. Pete stumbles as he's pushed and hits the wall, glaring at Patrick. "Fuck you, you never know when to fucking quit, do you?" Patrick hisses, and Pete shrugs in such a nonchalant way that it causes anger to bubble up inside Patrick, and Patrick raises a hand and curls into a fist, swinging at Pete's jaw. It a sloppy throw and hits his cheek and the side of his lips, but it still causes him to jerk away from Patrick and raise his hands in defense. 

Pete doesn't say anything, but gazes at him defiantly. He doesn't hit back and doesn't do anything, and it makes Patrick even angrier. Patrick kicks his shins and Pete falls to his knees, wincing as he looks up at Patrick. Patrick kicks him in the stomach and he slumps back against the wall. Another kick makes him grunt in pain, blood spattered on his lips. His lip is busted, and he's holding his stomach. He looks up at Patrick with glazed browns, his mouth red. Patrick sinks to his knees and slaps him across the face, and Pete closes his eyes, bracing himself for the next assault. "Such a fucking idiot." Patrick growls, his breathing ragged. But while his is ragged, Pete's is calm and even, only a slight tremor showing his hurt.

Patrick swallows, closes his eyes for a moment and counts to ten in his head. After the count he feels slightly less angry. He grabs Pete's chin roughly and examines his lip, brushing the thumb of his other hand over the blood. Pete watches him now with something in his eyes, his eyebrows drawn together. Pete ever so slowly flicks his tongue out and curls it around Patrick's thumb, the pink contrasting with the porcelain skin. His blood stains his thumb and the crimson, pink, and white mix together in a sight that's obscene and delicious. 

Patrick glances down, Pete's visibly hard through his skintight jeans. Patrick chuckles, earning him an upset stare from Pete. "You like this, don't you?" He asks evenly, controlling himself now. He pulls his thumb away and instantly thrusts his index and middle finger into Pete's mouth, earning him a choked noise. "You  _like_ being ordered around and fingers in your mouth." Pete swallows around his fingers and hollows his cheeks, a sight that should be funny, but isn't. It's dirty and makes heat shoot though Patrick, making him harder than he's ever been before in a matter of seconds. "Fuck." Patrick whispers.

Patrick pulls his fingers out of Pete's mouth, they're wet and dripping, and wipes them impatiently on Pete's shirt. Then he leans forward and presses his lips against Pete's swollen ones. He's hesitant at first, but then Pete opens his mouth and goes for it. Patrick groans into his mouth and grabs a fistful of his hair, angling his head. His lips move from Pete's mouth to his jaw, mouthing, and Pete whimpers. Patrick moves down to his neck, grazing his lips across the olive skin. This makes Pete cry out, eyes fluttering. Patrick does it again, firmer this time, and Pete whimpers again. Patrick smirks against his skin, before biting down and sucking. Pete arches his back, drawing himself closer to Patrick, and groans, long and loud. Once Patrick's satisfied that there will be a mark there, he moves away.

"D'you want to suck my cock? Or do you want me to fucking choke you?" Patrick asks Pete, and Pete's breathing increases. He jerks his head, shrugging slightly. "I know you've done this before. With  _Mikey_." Patrick spits the name out, feeling jealousy curl in his belly. 

"Yeah, I did. Make me forget him." Pete says suddenly, voice hoarse and small. Patrick smirks at him, before standing. 

"Do it, suck me." Patrick commands him, and Pete pushes himself onto his knees quickly, unzipping Patrick's jeans with his teeth. Patrick groans at the sight, and Pete tugs open the button and pulls his jeans down to his thighs. Pete's about to push down his boxers when he suddenly stops. "Fuck, what?" Patrick growls, because he knows that look. The questioning one.

"It's- it's just, your beautiful."  Pete mumbles against his thigh. Patrick swallows, knitting his eyebrows together. He shakes his head and Pete's eyes darken, and then Pete sinks teeth into Patrick's thigh, biting and sucking. Patrick moans instantly, and a dark wet spot appears on the front of his boxers. He braces himself against the wall, groaning at the feeling of Pete sucking and biting. He's always had such a biting kink, but Pete can't know that. Can he? 

"C'mon, c'mon, fucking suck my cock already." Patrick mutters at him, and Pete directs his attention to Patrick's boxers, smirking at the wet, before mouthing at his cock. Patrick sucks in a breath and reaches a hand down to tug on Pete's hair impatiently. Pete frowns and pulls his boxers down, licking his lips as he spots Patrick's cock, hard and leaking. He immediately wraps a hand around the base, and the feeling is so good that Patrick nearly cries. Then he's licking a stripe down the underside and then moving back up, sucking the head into his mouth and flicking his tongue across the slit. Patrick tightens the hand in his hair, and Pete moans around his cock. 

Pete begins move down his cock, taking it into his mouth. He reaches the base and moves his hand away, making his jaw slack as he moves forward to take more into his mouth. He noses against Patrick's groin, and looks up, mouth full of Patrick's entire cock. It's a feat, not because Patrick's large, he's above average, but because Patrick's thick. Patrick moans as Pete moves back slightly, a small trace of teeth. Then Pete moves forward again.

Patrick tugs on his hair in warning and then thrusts, moaning at the tight hot feeling of Pete's mouth. Pete makes a choked noise, and saliva drips from his mouth. It's obscene and Patrick groans, thrusting again and again. He starts thrusting harder once he's close, chasing his orgasm, and Pete's choking around his cock but Patrick doesn't care, because maybe this will teach him a lesson.

Pete moans, pressing the heel of his hand against his cock, and it sets Patrick off, his hips jerking as he comes, shooting down Pete's throat. Pete's throat works around him, swallowing, and then Patrick pulls out of his mouth. Pete strokes him softly and licks the remaining dollops of come away, until Patrick's slapping his hand away from his oversensitive cock. Pete looks up at him then, saliva on his chin and his hair messy, and Patrick sinks down again, tugging his jeans open. 

He pulls his jeans and boxers down and wraps a hand around Pete, whose throbbing and leaking in his hand. The sweat and precome can't possibly be enough, but Pete's moaning with the friction and thrusting up into Patrick's hand as he strokes quickly and powerfully. He accidentally rubs his thumb under the head, and Pete comes, shuddering violently and spurting into Patrick's hand and across his shirt. He's silent when he comes, but the look of pure pleasure on his face satisfies Patrick. Patrick strokes him softly once more, milking him of his come. Another dollop appears and Patrick leans down, overcome by the temptation to lick it away. He does and it's salty and bitter but it's  _Pete._ Pete pushes his head away after a second, quivering. He tucks him away and does the same to himself, pulling his jeans up, then raises Pete's shirt up his body.

Pete raises his arms and Patrick pulls it off him, throwing it in the corner. Patrick scoots next to him and wraps arms around him, kissing his temple softly. "I'm sorry." Pete whispers a few moments later, wrapping his arm around Patrick's waist and rubbing soft circles into his hip. 

"It's okay, I should be the one apologizing." Patrick mumbles into his hair, and then lifts Pete's chin, kissing him softly. "Are you okay? Was I too rough?" Patrick asks him, stroking his thumb across his cheek. 

Pet shakes his head, and his hand stills against Patrick's hip. "No, it was so fucking hot. Always thought you'd be rough. Always knew that you were probably into some kinky shit." Pete tells him, voice hoarse from Patrick's actions. Patrick hums happily and then stops a moment later.

"Wait, always?" Patrick asks confusedly, looking down at Pete. Pete nods, smiling softly.

"Lunchbox, don't you see? I've been in love with you since I fucking met you." Pete tells him, a hurt look on his face. Patrick swallows.

"But, you're you and I'm... me." Patrick says lamely. Why would Pete love him? Chubby and five years younger than him, thin hair and pale skin. Pete was exotic and tanned and gorgeous, and Patrick was just Patrick.

Pete reaches up and press firm lips against Patrick's, cupping his face softly and kissing him slowly, languidly. It's not a rough or dirty kiss like the one earlier, it's full of promises and  _love_. He pulls away. "Don't start. You're gorgeous and funny and adorable and fuckable, all at once. You look like an angel and fuck like a demon. You're perfect." Pete murmurs, and Patrick feels tears brim. He wipes them away hastily, and curls next to Pete. "I love you." Pete whispers.

"I love you too." And Patrick means it.


End file.
